


Contract Negotiations

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [76]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17813942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “And like, fuck, if you went into contract talks without bothering to consider term or money or something, that’d be ridiculous.”“This isn’t a contract talk,” Bryce says.“It literallyis,” Jared says. “Except the term of the contract is for fucking ever instead of six years.”





	Contract Negotiations

It’s a short walk from Chaz’s to their place, which is good, because it’s an awkward one. It probably would have been even if Bryce hadn’t gotten recognised by a few fans clearly fresh from the game, but it definitely doesn’t help. Jared peels away when they come up to Bryce, standing a few feet off, unsure if he should go ahead without him, if Bryce would prefer that. They don’t linger, thankfully, so it ends up being a moot point. They barely even acknowledged Jared’s existence, and he doesn’t know whether he feels relieved by that or not.

“Sorry,” Bryce says.

“Comes with the territory,” Jared says, not sure if he means Bryce’s level of fame in this town or what he signed up for as his boyfriend. Fiancé. Whatever he is.

“Still,” Bryce says. 

“It’s fine,” Jared says. “Let’s just go home before someone else recognises you.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, and thankfully that’s what they get. Well, the concierge greets them, but that’s just the usual thing. Jared keeps his hands in his pockets when they go through the lobby, because it seems like anything else is asking for trouble.

Their place is how Jared left it when he went to Chaz’s, down to the Eeyore coffee cup still sitting on the dining room table, and it’s weird. It shouldn’t be, really, he was gone barely more than twenty-four hours, but it is. 

“So,” Bryce says, after a minute. It’s a heavy ‘so’. 

“Can we just — go to bed?” Jared asks.

“We have to talk,” Bryce says.

“I know, I just — can we do it tomorrow?” Jared asks. “I slept like shit last night.”

“Me too,” Bryce says. “But you know I leave town tomorrow.”

“Like, late afternoon,” Jared says. And if Bryce storms out again he storms right onto a plane out of town, but that’s honestly a risk Jared’s willing to take to avoid saying something that makes things worse because he’s feeling wrung out and bruised. “Please?”

“Okay,” Bryce says. 

Jared’s under the covers by the time Bryce finishes his nighttime routine — it takes work to look that good, apparently — and crawls in beside him. Well, not so much beside him as clinging to the edge. It’s a big bed, and they could fit another person between them right now.

“Can you come closer?” Jared asks, and Bryce closes a bit of the space between them. Not enough, so Jared bridges the rest of it.

“I wasn’t sure I was allowed,” Bryce says after a second, and Jared makes the executive decision to use Bryce as a pillow. Bryce’s hand comes up, running through Jared’s hair, and Jared shuts his eyes.

“If you don’t want to get married,” Bryce says, soft. “I get it, I—”

“Tomorrow, okay?” Jared says. “I do, I just. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Bryce says, thumb tracing the shell of Jared’s ear, and Jared listens to the steady beat of his heart against his cheek, lets it calm him enough, by degrees, that he can finally sleep.

*

Jared wakes up before Bryce, makes them coffee, a big breakfast, because it’s something to do while he waits for Bryce’s alarm to go off. He figures ‘hey, wake up, we have to have the talk we’re probably both dreading’ is probably worse than an alarm. They don’t really talk over breakfast, but then, that’s not that weird. Mornings are usually quiet in the Marcus-Matheson household.

Jared nearly chokes on his eggs thinking about trying to fit that on a damn jersey. His shoulders are not broad enough to pull off name that long.

“What?” Bryce asks.

“It’s nothing,” Jared says. “Just a stupid thing I thought of.”

Bryce looks at him expectantly.

“Seriously, never mind,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Bryce says, but there’s a kind of tension there now that Jared hates. So. They should talk about it. They need to talk about it.

“So,” Jared says. “Um. Marriage.”

Bryce puts his fork down.

“I feel like we should talk about, I don’t know,” Jared says. “Logistics, if we’re actually going to do this.”

“Logistics?” Bryce asks blankly.

“I mean,” Jared says. “I don’t even know if you want to get married like, tomorrow, or ten years from now.”

“Why would I propose if I didn’t want to get married for ten years?” Bryce asks.

“Long engagements are a thing,” Jared says.

“Ten _years_?” Bryce asks.

“Okay, maybe not ten years,” Jared says. “But if this is like, something you wanted to do like, right away, or in a year, or when I’m settled in Edmonton—”

Bryce flinches. 

“Marrying me doesn’t change the fact I’m probably not going to be in Calgary next year,” Jared says.

“I know,” Bryce says. 

“And like,” Jared says. “A lot of people are going to have to be told? Like, your accountant, and like, obviously our agents, and we probably need a lawyer, and I don’t know if you want a pre-nup or not, but we should probably do —”

“Why the fuck would I want a pre-nup?” Bryce asks, sounding completely taken aback.

“Uh,” Jared says. “Because you make over six million bucks a year, and unless I get called up next season I make basically jack and shit. And even if I do get called up to the NHL, your income will still be like, seven times the size of mine.”

“So what?” Bryce asks.

“So if we get married your income is kind of _our_ income,” Jared says.

“Yeah,” Bryce says, like that’s not even a thing.

“Like, if we got divorced—”

“We wouldn’t get divorced,” Bryce interrupts. “Why are you even talking about getting divorced?”

“Because this is what literally every other person would tell you,” Jared says. “You’re worth a shitton of money, Bryce.”

“Like you give a shit about my money,” Bryce says. “You actively hate it when I spend money on you.”

“That’s not the point,” Jared says.

“It kind of is,” Bryce says. “Do you have like a list in your head of reasons why I shouldn’t marry you or something?” 

“ _Bryce_ ,” Jared says. “For fuck’s sakes, this is all shit you should have already thought of.”

“I just—” Bryce says. “I want to be with you, okay? Like, forever. And I don’t — I don’t give a shit about pre-nups or taxes, or like, why are you even—”

“You already _are_ with me,” Jared says. “And like, fuck, if you went into contract talks without bothering to consider term or money or something, that’d be ridiculous.”

“This isn’t a contract talk,” Bryce says.

“It literally _is_ ,” Jared says. “Except the term of the contract is for fucking ever instead of six years.”

Bryce is quiet.

“I know that’s not like, romantic,” Jared says. “But marriage is kind of — it’s not just romantic. This is something that would kind of decide the rest of our lives, and I really need you to think about the stuff that’s boring, or uncomfortable, or whatever, and decide whether that’s something you’re willing to do before I’m comfortable marrying you.”

“Whatever you want,” Bryce says.

“ _Bryce_ ,” Jared says.

“I mean it,” Bryce says. “I’m not being like, sarcastic. That’s a you thing.”

“Hey,” Jared says, but it _is_ a him thing, so there isn’t much heat to it.

“Like, you’re so smart,” Bryce says. “So I don’t know how you still haven’t figured out that whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do for me,” Jared says. “That’s how you breed resentment.”

“I want to marry you,” Bryce says. “Like, more than I’ve wanted anything in my life other than hockey. Maybe even more than that. And if that means — I’m kind of used to the shit I want most needing like, sacrifice and stuff. I moved to a different country from my mom when I was sixteen. I’ve literally broken bones. I had to have like, that crazy awful playoff bleach job that fucked up my hair and now I’m going to be stuck seeing it on you again in like, a week.”

Jared snorts. “Sorry.” 

“I’ll deal,” Bryce says. “I’m just saying like, if it involves things I don’t want to do, that’s — it’s worth it, for me. Getting to be your husband would be worth it.”

Jared, for once, has no idea what to say.

“So like,” Bryce says. “I know I asked, and you said yes, but like, you said you weren’t thinking—”

Jared flinches. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“No, it’s,” Bryce says. “It’s okay.”

“It came out wrong,” Jared says. “I really didn’t mean it that way.”

“It’s okay,” Bryce repeats. “I get it. But like, you’ve clearly like, thought a lot about it since?”

That is possibly an understatement.

“And I’ve thought a lot about it since too,” Bryce says. “And I still want to marry you. Like, so much. So I guess I’m like — if you don’t want to now, that’s okay. I won’t — I’m not going to lie, that’d really fucking suck and it’d — I just want you to know I wouldn’t hold it against you if you don’t want to now, or want to wait, or.”

Bryce’s hands are shaking, and Jared reaches across the table, threads their fingers, tries to still them. He already knows his answer, but he manages to hold onto it for once, because he thinks Bryce needs to say his piece, and he thinks he needs to hear it.

“I know you have like, doubts,” Bryce says. “About whether I’m ready. I just know I’ve never been sure of anything as much as I’m sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if you’re in another city, even if that means people know about us. So. Jared Matheson, will you marry me?” 

Jared swallows hard once, again. “Yeah,” he manages finally. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?” Bryce asks, and his smile is the brightest thing Jared’s ever seen. It almost hurts; feels a little like staring into the sun.

“Yeah,” Jared says, but that seems too casual, all ‘I _guess_ it’s okay’. “I mean. Yes. I do, or —”

He honestly relieved when Bryce kisses him before he starts blurting out ‘oui’ or whatever else his ridiculous mouth comes up with.

“You didn’t use my full name,” Jared says when Bryce pulls back.

“You didn’t like me saying the Bradley part last time,” Bryce says, and Jared kind of has to kiss him again, just for that.


End file.
